A Momentous Vagary
by edelweiss123
Summary: She knew full well that what she was doing was risky-but it was easier for her to deal with than letting him go.' Time and circumstance often require that choices be made in an instant. Too bad the resulting consequences aren't always so short-lived.
1. Chapter 1

**I **

**Tea for Two, Part 1**

**A/N - **Hey everyone! So, this is my first serious attempt at a story (it's probably for the best that you ignore the other two... -_-' ) DeiSaku is one of my very favorite pairings, but unfortunately is not very popular, so there are not many stories written (good ones anyway--but you should definitely check out Cynchick's stories and read each and every one of them) so I decided I would add another (hopefully decent) story to the woefully small pile. I've already got the plot (mostly) worked out, and it will be a decently long one, and I will try my darndest to stick with it. (Reviews help encourage me to write.... *wink wink nudge nudge*) So, read and review, and enjoy!

**~o0o~**

Solo missions sucked, Deidara decided.

It had sounded easy enough on paper: break into such and such fortress, steal some top-secret mystery scroll, take out this nobody crime lord in the process... Pretty routine stuff for an S-class missing-nin. Shouldn't have taken more than three days.

But of course things could never just run smoothly, could they? He grudgingly supposed it may have gone better if he had planned ahead, but that was something he just did not do. He was, in fact, fundamentally opposed to the idea. Plans, especially elaborate ones, required you to predict that events would turn out a certain way in order for them to work: and life almost _never_ went the way you expected, so they were pretty much doomed to fail from the start. In his opinion, it was better to just _act_ and see what happened, then adapt to the situation. What were quick-ninja reflexes for, after all? Plus, planning just wasn't in his nature. Art wasn't _art_ if it was _planned._If he felt inspired, he had to express it right in that second. Because if he didn't, then the moment of creation would have passed and art would have gone unfulfilled, and that was just _unacceptable_. Deidara lived for his art, and the spontaneity and explosions and thrill that accompanied it. Plans were nothing more than rigid barriers that stifled his artistic inspiration and killed his mood.

Not to say that his mood wasn't killed anyway, sans planning. During the course of the past week, he had been caught breaking and entering, had his ass kicked (though he did manage to get the scroll and kill whats-his-face), been forced to run for a day straight immediately after said ass-kicking, been stuck in the rain with no shelter, caught a cold, gone hungry, lost his money, almost had his ass kicked again when the enemy caught up with him and because of that ended up nearly clay-less, then had been forced to henge into a _Geisha_ of all things to avoid being followed _again_, and _then_ couldn't even _bomb_ the place when one of the okiya's patrons tried to _fondle_ him.

And now he was walking down a road somewhere in the middle of River country, tired, hungry, injured, under the weather, nearly out of clay, and extremely grouchy.

But, it could have been worse. At least he didn't lose an _arm _this time. Or two.

And at least that swirly-faced nightmare wasn't anywhere in sight. He shuddered.

Yes, solo missions sucked, he had decided. But missions with Tobi were hell.

His stomach growled.

"This is getting old, yeah," he muttered to himself, putting a hand to his abdomen. There was a teahouse not too much further down the road that he visited on occasion, but he was unfortunately out of cash. He would normally just leave without paying, but he wasn't exactly in the mood to deal with the scene that would cause. Plus, he knew he would probably want to visit the place again next time he was around, which he couldn't do if he wrecked the place. (His was not a face that was easily forgotten.) But, he knew a few ways to get cash when he needed it.

Sticking his hand into the clay pouch at his left side, the mouth there closed around his last, tiny, near-worthless scrap of clay and began to chew. A minute or so later, it spit out a small clay spider. There was a man walking towards him on the path. When Deidara and the man passed each other, he discreetly tossed the spider on the man, where it proceeded to crawl down his back and into his wallet.

Deidara slowed his pace and held his hand out behind him, palm up, and waited for the creature to return to him. When it did, it dropped several tightly folded notes of paper into his hand. He took them and stuck them in his pocket, and, just for good measure, tossed the spider in the air.

"_Katsu!_" he whispered, and the clay went off with a 'pop'. He sighed. He never got tired of that.

His mood now marginally improved due to his art and the promise of food, he set off at a quicker pace.

He reached the teahouse five minutes later, and his mood abruptly dropped again. The place was absolutely _packed._ The seats farthest from the entrance, facing it, (less conspicuous, easier to keep an eye out for danger) were all taken. In fact, the only unoccupied seat in the entire establishment was at a table for two near the back wall, across from some civilian girl.

He ground his teeth together in frustration,: all three sets of them. All he wanted was a nice quiet meal with minimal to no human interaction. Was that too much to ask for?

He walked up to the seat. The girl looked up. Lank brown hair, small dark eyes, unimpressive face. How boring.

"This is the only seat left, yeah." He motioned to the seat with his hand. The girl just stared at him, mouth slightly agape.

Deidara, even at the best of times, was not a patient person. And it was definitely not the best of times for him right now. So with every second that ticked by, waiting for a response, his annoyance doubled. What, was she stupid? Could she not take a hint? He shouldn't have to ask for anything, but here he was, waiting for her permission to sit in a seat that wasn't even hers. He should just take-

"'Would you like to sit here, sir?" she said evenly. He had been in the process of sitting anyway, but decided to respond.

"Hn," was all he cared to manage. He slid into the small booth, removing his straw kasa and placing it on the bench beside him. He stretched a little and tried to relax, staring at a fixed point on the wall behind her head, waiting for someone to come and take his order. She stared at him for a few seconds, then dropped her gaze to the plate of dango in front of her. He could tell that she was _trying _to look like she was focused on her food, but failing miserably. He could feel her eyes flicker briefly to his face and body every few seconds, and it was starting to bug him. He was just about to tell her off when the waiter came to their table.

"What would you like?" he asked. Deidara was pretty hungry, so he decided to get a couple of things.

"Some green tea, an order of gyoza, a bowl of sticky rice, three chicken yakitori, some bean cakes," he glanced at the girl's plate on the table, "and an order of dango, yeah."

"That's all?" the man chuckled slightly. "We'll have that right out, then. Suki!" He walked off and started yelling out Deidara's order to the cooks.

Deidara sat back and waited for his order to arrive. He rolled the fingers of his right hand in a drum-like _ta-ta-tap _on the table in front of him, keeping a steady rhythm. He casually watched the people around him from the corner of his eye, listening in to bits and pieces of their mundane conversations, keeping his ears open for anything suspicious. Because this place was just _bound _to be full of dangerous people. He snorted. He doubted anyone in here had ever even _seen _danger, let alone been the danger. Other than himself, of course.

He grew bored of listening to the constant chatter around him and turned his attention back to the girl in front of him. She was still just as unimpressive to look at as before, but at least it was something to do.

She had dull, shoulder length brown hair with absolutely no highlights, and her eyes were tiny and depthless. Her lips weren't small, but they weren't big either. Her nose was straight, and somewhat petite. Her face was slightly round, but not fat, and she appeared to be of average height and build. She wore a plain brown and green civilian dress, with no frills or accessories. He wondered what her name was, and if it was as boring and average as the rest of her. He might have even asked her, but his dispassionate observation was interrupted when she spoke in a low tone.

"It's impolite to stare, you know." She sounded like she was trying to be threatening, but was too nervous to pull it off. And nervous she should be. After all, he was an S-class criminal, as evidenced by his crossed-out hitai-ate that even a civilian should know the significance of. He was also a member of the most powerful organization in the world, though his cloak and ring probably meant nothing to her. But still, what could _she_ threaten _him _with?

"No one's ever called me polite, yeah." Her brow furrowed minutely and her jaw was slightly clenched: she was_ annoyed _with him? This was actually starting to be amusing. She looked like she was about to reply, but the waiter came with his food before she could.

"Here you go, enjoy!" The man set several platters of food down on the table in front of him and left. Deidara tore into his food immediately, starting with the dumplings. He ate for several solid minutes before he bothered to look up at the girl again.

She looked even more annoyed than before, and was watching him eat with mild disgust. He smirked. He started chewing with his mouth open and smacking his lips as he ate, making sure to swallow as noisily as possible. He grabbed his cup of tea and took a long, drawn-out slurp, before setting it down and burping. His smirk widened. He thought he could actually see a vein bulging on her temple.

"I can see why nobody has ever called you polite." Her tone was clipped and icy. She continued to scrutinize him--glare at, might be a more accurate term--until the waiter came around for refills on drinks.

"Please," she said, holding up her cup.

"Here you go, miss."

"Thank you." The words were out of her mouth before the waiter had even done anything. It was slightly sickening.

He refilled the girls' cup and turned to Deidara.

"And you, sir?" Deidara scooted his cup closer to the edge of the table with the back of his hand and nodded; the waiter refilled it and left. And now the girl was back to glaring at him. She looked like she wanted to punch him through a wall.

"Something wrong?" he asked in a concerned tone, trying his best to look sincere and not wickedly amused.

She just stared at him for the longest time, with that irked expression. Then suddenly she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Then her face opened up and she smilied at him, brilliantly.

"No, nothing's wrong. Why do you ask?" She was still smiling at him, like she would love nothing more than to have his continued company. It was actually a little creepy. And he told her as much.

"That's a freaky smile, yeah. I bet you could scare people with it." People that weren't him, of course. He wasn't scared of anything.

The smile faltered for a second, and he saw the anger that was just underneath the surface. But when the smile was plastered back in place, it was even stronger than before.

"Actually, you're right. I can. And have." She paused to take a small bite of her dango, chewing thoughtfully before continuing, "But only when it's deserved." And apparently, he deserved it.

Here was yet another pretentious snob in the seemingly endless line of pretentious snobs that always seemed to parade through Deidara's life. People who didn't know a damn about him yet automatically assumed they were better than him. People who, because he didn't adhere to whatever standards they projected onto the rest of humanity, be it punctuality or levelheadedness or _manners_, scorned his very existence. And, most unforgivably, they were the people that ignored his art.

"And what have _I_ done, hm? Offended your better sensibilities? Am I disrupting your peaceful little lunch, princess?"

The look of pure, unadulterated fury that flashed through her eyes was brief, but Deidara caught it. For a wild second he imagined she would crush the ceramic cup she held in her hands to dust, but she calmed down almost instantly and set down her tea. She leveled an even, cool gaze at him, and spoke calmly:

"You know nothing about me."

"Likewise," he scoffed. Her eyes widened slightly at his response, her mouth pressed into a thin line, and... was that a real smile emerging at the edge of her lips?

"True," she said, after a long silence. Then, taking a sip of her drink, seemed to ponder him for a moment as she stared over the edge of her cup. She spoke slowly, calculatingly, "But it doesn't have to stay that way."

He quirked a brow. Doesn't have to stay that way? What did she...? Suddenly it came to him and he felt laughter bubbling up from the depths of his chest. She was... _hitting on him_?

"I apologize for being so rude before," she continued. "My name is Uroshi Hana. And you...?" She looked at him expectantly.

Deidara felt amused, disgusted, and uncomfortable all at once. Here was a girl who not thirty30 seconds ago hated him for no apparent reason other than his lack of table etiquette, and now wanted to pretend like it had never happened because she thought he was attractive. At least, that's the only explanation for her sudden change in attitude that _he_ could think of. Well, he could play along, for now, at least. It might even be worth it if he could get another rise out of her: a big one this time.

"I'm Deidara. And I'll accept your apology." Though he really didn't. "But just so you know," he paused to scratch at an imaginary itch on his chin, "you're not really my type."

There it was again, that flash of anger and annoyance in her face, and he couldn't help but smirk when he saw it took her a little bit longer than before to compose herself. When she did, her tone was not quite as polite or sweet as before.

"I'm sorry if Ii've given you the wrong impression, but that was not what I was suggesting." She looked appalled at the very thought. Well, there went the 'attractive' theory. But then why the hell would she suddenly want to start a conversation with him? "I simply meant that there was no reason why we couldn't just have a civil conversation instead of annoying the hell out of each other."

So she was bored? That was her given reason for wanting to interact with him? He was resentful that this girl and so many other people seemed to feel he was an object to be used to entertain themselves, but, then again, wasn't he doing the same to her? He would call it even, then. This time.

But really, things were not completely even between them. Because so far, _he_ was the one winning this petty little game. Miss manners had slipped and cursed towards the end of her little spiel, and though she had definitely gotten under his skin with her 'holier-than-thou' attitude, he had not yet lost his temper. This only confirmed his suspicion that it would be very easy to get her mad enough to make her completely drop her pretense of civility, an event he was looking forward to immensely.

"So," she continued, "what brings you to River country?" She took another bite of dango.

"Just passing through." He was still waiting for an opportunity to insult her.

"Where are you going?"

"Fire country." Her eyes widened a fraction.

"Really? So am I. I live there." She paused. "What are you going to do when you get there?"

His eyes narrowed. Why did she want this information? It had been so long since he had had a 'civil conversation', as she put it, that he couldn't remember what qualified as just small talk and not suspicious questioning.

"I have some business to take care of there," he answered with guarded honesty. Then, as an afterthought, tacked on: "I'm an artist."

"Really?" She glanced at his forehead. "An artist and a shinobi? That's...different."

At this point he was sorely tempted to waggle the tongues in his hands at her and show her just how _different_ he really was, but checked himself. He wanted to get a rise out of her, sure; but displaying his bloodline limit in public would definitely go against his plan of not making a scene.

"What kind of art do you do?"

_The best kind.__ The purest.__ My art is the ultimate expression of ephemerality and sublime-_

He _really_ had to check himself that time. He had nearly launched into a passionate explanation of his life's work to this complete stranger. Not that he didn't love talking about his art, but...

"You wouldn't understand." Or care. Oh, sure, she might nod occasionally and pretend to look interested in what he was saying, to be 'polite', but someone like her would never truly appreciate what he did. Nobody seemed to...

Except maybe Tobi. But his attention to Deidara's art was less appreciation and more of Tobi's healthy respect of the powerful explosions they caused, which had the potential to blow away both enemies and Tobi. Which, he would admit, happened on occasion.

He had hoped that this comment would make her angry, and it did. But for some reason, he just didn't feel as victorious as he thought he would.

"Oh really? What makes you think that?" She thought he was insulting her intelligence, and, he supposed, he was, in a way... but he was mostly insulting her obvious shallowness. He didn't feel like responding, so he figured he would just wait until she got so angry that she left, or got so uncomfortable with the silence that she would start another topic of conversation. To his surprise, it was the latter.

"Well, if you don't want to talk about it..." A pause, then, "what do you do as a shinobi? Surely something exciting."

_His _main focus of being a ninja centered around his art, but just like every other shinobi, his real purpose boiled down to one thing:

"I carry out missions." Which was just a nice way of saying you did whatever you were told for money. Though for him, this was not completely true. In fact, the main reason he was so often out of money was because he _really _didn't like being ordered around. Of course, there were _some _orders that you just did _not_ disobey, but he made a point of getting away with as much insubordination as possible.

"Like what?" She looked genuinely interested now. Hm. He wasn't sure what kind of glorified, romantic image this girl had of the shinobi life, but he was pretty sure he was about to shatter it.

"I kill people. I do robberies and bombings..." He took a sip of his tea. "Occasionally take a hostage or two..." He made sure to keep his voice as offhand as possible, watching her face intently from the corner of his eye.

She barely even flinched. Well, that certainly wasn't the reaction he'd been expecting. Considering her rather extreme response to his lack of manners, his admission of crimes far blacker _should_ have sent her into a righteous outrage, or perhaps made her act in an even more outlandish way than he could imagine--he had secretly been hoping for the latter, just for the novelty of it. But the fact that she'd reacted in much the same way had he instead answered 'filing paperwork' and 'crunching numbers' was both disappointing to him and vaguely disturbing. What kind of person got irked about chewing with your mouth open but didn't bat an eye at murder?

He tried to repress a shudder as the image of a certain genteel clan-killer rose unbidden to the forefront of his mind. He shook his head to clear it. No way in hell this girl was as cold-blooded as that damn Uchiha; even _he_ wasn't cold blooded about killing; he felt _some_ emotion during the act (though whether his was an entirely appropriate or _sane _response was debatable.) Their only similarity would have to be their pompousness. So why the calm, then? Maybe she just didn't hear him right, or maybe she chose not to believe him. Yeah, that made more sense.

"So is that the kind of 'business' you'll be attending to in Fire, then?" He told himself that her tone was teasing, and didn't contain the barest hint of a threat. Because if she was trying to threaten him, then she must think he was going to wreak havoc in her country, and if she believed he was going to harm her country, then she'd believed what he said, and if she'd believed what he'd said, then... well, then, there was another theory down. Her stoic reaction just didn't make any sense...

Outwardly, though, he let none of his mental circle-running show.

"That would be telling." Ah, there it was again: the anger. And again, it was caused by nothing more than a mild quip.

Before he even had a chance to contemplate what her return to 'normalcy' meant, she asked him a surprising question.

"Would you mind watching my stuff for a minute? I have to use the bathroom." And without waiting for more of a response thant his garbled "errr.." she promptly left the table.

It was a surprising question because it was one that people just didn't ask him. He wasn't exactly the most trustworthy of people and for her to assume that he wouldn't steal her stuff galled him enough into wanting to, just out of spite. And if it wasn't for that small, easily distractible part of his brain that was busy wondering at the fact that she had said 'use the bathroom' instead of 'powder my nose', along with another part that was still trying to puzzle out her bizarre behavior and coming up with nothing more than a vague sense of unease, he might have done it: but before he could act she was back at the table.

She seemed, once again, to completely forget their previous interaction as their conversation turned--or rather, she turned it--to the typical boring gambit of stranger-to-stranger small talk. How was the weather? Visiting any family in the area? Stop at this teahouse often?

Despite the innocuous topics they discussed he could not shake his uneasiness at her presence. Surely something was amiss when a mere civillian girl set off an S-class nins' warning instincts? But those instincts were what usually kept him alive, and, though he felt ridiculous for thinking it, he knew he needed to get out of there A.S.A.P.

The waiter came to refill their drinks again about five minutes later, and another two minutes after that the girl got up to leave. Feeling that he should follow suit, he downed the rest of his drink in one quick gulp and made for the exit.

"Sir?" He stopped and looked behind him to see the waiter standing there with his hand held out, palm up.

It actually took Deidara about three seconds to realize what was going on. Oops. Here he had gone to through the trouble of getting money so he wouldn't cause a scene by dining and dashing, and he almost did it anyway. What was wrong with him?

"Here." He put some money in the mans' hand--he was pretty sure it was enough--and continued through the exit.

Something must_really _be wrong, because, he thought as he walked down the path, he didn't forget stupid things like that, and he was still feeling jumpy for some reason, and why did his legs feel so heavy? Surely he hadn't been sitting that long... how long _had_ he been sitting? And why was everything all fuzzy? He didn't remember being this tired, and oh now he couldn't feel his legs at all and where was he again and when had he lain down and why was he even thinking about this because he was trying to go to sleep....

_You've been drugged_, a quiet voice in the back of his head told him, but Deidara was already gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**I**

**Tea for Two, Part 2**

Solo missions sucked, Sakura decided.

It wasn't that the missions themselves were bad: in fact, they were usually fairly simple and paid very well, due to her status as a medic. Most often her solo missions were never above B-class, almost always consisted of healing some wealthy lord or other noble (thus the excellent pay), and typically involved no real danger or combat.

And that was precisely why they sucked.

Okay, so the pay was something she would never complain about (although it did bother her that with all the sick and dying people in the world, special attention was given to those with enough money to hire someone as skilled as herself when she would just as readily heal someone for free-but that was neither here nor there.)

The main reason she had come to hate solo missions was simply because she felt she could, and should be doing so much _more_. Sure, she was a medic: but that was only one of her abilities. She was also a genjutsu specialist (a fact that was hardly ever considered when given assignments, it seemed) and her taijutsu was, like her shishou's, legendary. She found great satisfaction in healing people, and of course she didn't want _all _of her missions to be risky and bloody and violent: just some of them. Otherwise, her non-medical skills might get rusty. And after working so, so hard to get to where she was today, she was not about to let that happen.

At least the solo mission she was currently on had a little bit of spice to it: not in the actual mission, which had been to heal the burns of the Wind Daiymo's mistress (she had tripped into a fireplace), but because of the pseudo-secret nature of the patient, she had been required to travel in disguise. She was, after all, quite recognizable: especially in Wind country.

But that had been the extent of the excitement. The healing had been quick and easy, the pay had been received without problem, and her travels thus far had been without incident. Not even one measly bounty hunter. She scowled into her cup.

She was currently traveling back to Konoha, but had stopped at a little teahouse she liked to visit whenever she was passing through River country. At any rate, it was the only place to get a decent meal within a day's travel in either direction.

Well, a days' travel had she been going at her normal speed. But as she was currently well disguised as a plain civillian girl (with her chakra control only a sensor-type shinobi would be able to detect her henge), she also had to _travel_ like a plain civilian girl in order to complete the illusion. Which meant walking. A _lot _of walking. And although it was slightly thrilling to have a secret identity, _that _particular novelty had worn off very quickly. She understood the point of secrecy while on her way _to _Wind country; the daiymo's lover was not well liked. But was it really necessary to keep it up all the way back to Konoha too? She was 99.9% positive that she was not being followed, but, since it was a specific requirement of the mission, she had no choice but to go with it.

"Here you go, miss." Her dango had arrived at the table.

"Thanks," she said, smiling. But the smile faded as soon as the man left to attend to other tables.

That was another thing she hated about solo missions. They were lonely. Sakura had always been a very social person (well, at least ever since she was given a chance to be) and the long, empty silences of solo missions were depressing. It gave her too much time to think: and that was never a good thing, especially since her thoughts always seemed to drift towards _him_...

_Stop!_

It was best to quash those thoughts before they even came. She took a rather violent bite from her dango and gulped it down. She studied the sweet little balls of rice flour with mild interest. She had forgotten how good they were here. She decided to take smaller bites from now on to make it last longer.

She was about halfway through her meal when she felt a huge spike in the chakra around her. She stilled. Someone capable of using chakra, and quite a lot of it if that abnormally large fluctuation was any indication, was nearby. Very, very, carefully, without letting her own chakra levels rise above that of a non-shinobi, she probed the space around her and immediately found the source. It was a ninja, all right, and a damn strong one, too. Even with his chakra levels somewhat depleted, she could tell that he was dangerous. But that wasn't necessarily a cause for alarm: after all, he could very well be one of the many highly dangerous shinobi that were her allies. His chakra signature was even vaguely familiar. She looked at the store's entrance to confirm.

And immediately looked away, praying to the gods that he hadn't caught her looking.

Akatsuki.

In the doorway to her favorite little teahouse, in broad daylight and full view, stood a man who belonged to _the_ most powerful and evil criminal organization in the world. A man who was currently scanning the teashop for an empty seat, the only one of which happened to be at her own table. A man who was now headed her way.

_Don't panic, he doesn't know you, doesn't know you're a ninja..._

"This is the only seat left, yeah." A man she now recognized as the Akatsuki who had blown himself up trying to take out her and seven others and was _supposed_ to be dead. A man who had single-handedly fought one of the five strongest shinobi in existence and_ won_. A man who was currently looking very annoyed at her. She rushed to say something before that annoyance morphed into something else:

"Would you like to sit here, sir?" She hoped she had managed to keep the tremor out of her voice.

"Hn." His face had relaxed minutely and he slid into the proffered seat, removing his kasa to reveal the large blond topknot that resided on the top of his head. Distractedly, Sakura wondered how he'd managed to fit it under there, before the full gravity of the situation weighed down on her and she once again had to remind herself not to panic.

_Calm, Sakura, calm. Don't blow your cover._ It was vital that she keep her chakra from fluctuating and her emotions from showing. She looked down at her plate to try and hide whatever fear might be showing in her eyes.

Inwardly steeling herself, she tried to focus and recall everything she knew about this particular Akatsuki, both from what she had read in the bingo books and from what she had seen personally.

Name: Deidara. Age: ....she couldn't remember. Sakura chanced a brief look at his features_. Can't be that old, though_. Status: S-ranked missing-nin from Iwagakure. She took another quick look to spot the slashed-out boulders on his hitai-ate. Confirmed member of the criminal group Akatsuki-the cloak was a little obvious-and wanted in all five nations. Listing: Flee on sight.

Then she started sifting through her own observations. If he was from Iwa, he was probably an earth-type jutsu user. That would make sense, seeing as how he fought with those odd clay birds. He was a distance fighter--she noticed the scope was missing from his left eye--who launched explosives while flying on his transports, but he must also be extremely good at close range fighting as she remembered the man--armless, clutching a kunai between his teeth--had held his own against Team Gai, which contained three close-range taijutsu specialists. And if he was still alive... then that meant that it hadn't even really been him fighting them. It must have been a _clone_, a clone he had not only managed to make without any hand seals--meaning that his ninjutsu must also be preternaturally good--but had also been hardy enough to take several hits without disappearing, and _then _turn into a bomb so powerful that it would have killed them all had Kakashi not sealed away the blast in time.

"What would you like?" The waiter's sudden appearance startled her, but the Akatsuki didn't seem to notice her surprise. Probably because he was busy ordering half the menu.

"Some green tea, an order of Gyoza, a bowl of sticky rice, three chicken yakitori, some bean cakes," here he paused, and looked at her. Or her food, anyway. "And an order of dango, yeah."

"That's all? We'll have that right out, then. Suki!" The waiter left to go fill his massive order.

_Overeating, much?_ Though as a missing-nin, he probably went hungry a lot--_serves him right_--and he did look a little worse for wear at the moment, though the medic in her, rather than causing her to feel the usual automatic sympathy at his condition, was annoyed that someone could have such blatant disregard for their health. Eating nothing for days and then gorging was a great shock to the body. Then again, so was losing your arms. His, she noted with mild curiosity, had at some point been reattached. Hm. Akatsuki must have a medic, then.

Her attention was drawn back to his face when he snorted suddenly, and their gazes met for the briefest second before she shifted her gaze slightly downward to his nose and lips. He had a really wide mouth, she noticed, but that was probably exaggerated due to the fact that he wore an almost perpetual arrogant smirk, almost like S-

_-not going there-_

Someone else she used to know. His nose was small and narrow, but rounded at the end in an almost childlike pudgyness, and the way his ears kind of stuck out only added to the babyish look, though she knew he was far from innocent and could never be called adorable. Impish, maybe. He was also surprisingly tan for someone supposedly from a cold northern country, but then again, she knew plenty of people from very warm climates who were quite pale: Gaara, being one of the most notable, but also herself, Neji, and Sas--Sai. His hair was obnoxiously blonde, even more so than Naruto's, and the length of it annoyed her. Not to mention the fact that, despite lookng so disheveled, his hair still looked healthier than her own. And his eyes--which were still scanning her face, she noted with growing discomfort--were weird-looking; slanted, almond shapes encompassing an iris of stark, cold blue--nothing like Naruto's crystalline sky-blue or Ino's softer powder-blue--surrounded by thick fringes of eyelashes far too dark for a blonde. They were, in a word, piercing. And if he didn't stop looking at her then she was afraid her composure would slip and if that happened...

"It's impolite to stare, you know." Technically, she had been staring, too. But she had to do _something_ to break the tension.

"No one's ever called me polite, yeah." And he sounded proud about that status. He was even smiling--though the smile looked a little too manic to indicate happiness. She wished he would wipe that stupid grin off his face, or she might be tempted to do it for him. It was starting to unnerve her. Fortunately, the waiter had impeccable timing.

"Here you go, enjoy!" He unloaded an entire tray of food onto the criminal's table, looking extremely pleased, most likely at the prospect of the huge bill he would get to deliver in the near future--though Sakura kind of doubted that _this _particular customer would leave him with anything more than dirty dishes.

Deidara's unwanted attention to her all but vanished as he attacked the loaded plate of dumplings, cramming two in his mouth at a time and barely chewing. Then, a little wet piece of _something _landed on her cheek, and her mind went blank except for one, isolated thought:

_Please don't let that be what I think it is...._

With a sense of foreboding, she looked at the ceiling above her, praying that the roof was leaking. But no such luck. She used a napkin to gingerly wipe off the little fleck of saliva-coated dumpling and tried to repress her urge to run to the bathroom and _scrub the Akatsuki spit off her face _before she got contaminated or something. As a medic, she knew it was unlikely to catch anything from a tiny drop of spit and had at many times been covered in far more gory bodily fluids while on the job; being 17, she knew and had known for some time that there was no such thing as cooties: but neither of these logical reassurances comforted her, so she was forced to continue sitting still while trying not to glare at him. Not too much, anyway.

At some point Deidara must have noticed the look on her face--which was probably very disgruntled--because he started eating much more obnoxiously than before. She knew he was doing it on purpose, and from the quick little glances he kept casting at her, he knew that she knew and was all the more amused by it. Sick, arrogant bastard. She remembered the way he had tormented Naruto--sitting on his dead friends' body_, slapping _his face to prove he was dead, and then stuffing Gaara's body into one of his birds--all just to get a rise out of him. Obviously, making people upset and angry was one of his favorite past-times. She felt her own anger kindling in her chest, hot and suffocating, and the bitter taste of hatred was curling on her tongue. She wanted to kill him. He really needed to be dead, for many, many reasons. But Sakura had no illusions that she would stand a chance against him in a fight, even when he looked so ragged. Sure, she had technically defeated his partner, but she hadn't been alone, then, and her ally in that fight had had intimate knowledge of Sasori's battle strategies. So, she couldn't outright confront him. But she also did not want to give him the satisfaction of getting her worked up; so she kept her more violent feelings locked down.

"I can see why nobody has ever called you polite." In response, he just looked at her, with that same infuriating smirk, and a calculating look in his eye. That made her a little wary. What was he thinking? Was he planning something? Did he know who she really was? She would have no way of knowing... but better safe than sorry; she would keep up her disguise as long as possible. But what was he _thinking..._?

The waiter came around a minute later to refill their drinks, but Sakura could only manage a brief glance at him and an automatic 'please-and-thank-you' because she had somehow ended up in an impromptu staring contest with the blonde criminal across from her. He was winning; he hadn't broken his stare once, merely scooting his cup to the side for the waiter to refill while never moving his gaze from her face. She realized that this staredown was actually a common intimidation tactic used by interrogators; to look into someone's eyes until they were squirming on the inside. She knew this because Morino Ibiki, head of T&I for Konoha, did this to everyone he talked to, though whether it was intentional or just out of habit, she didn't know.

"Something wrong?" And damn it, it was working. She could feel the sweat gathering at the nape of her neck, but she wouldn't let her nervousness show. In fact... it was high time for a few mind games of her own. She took a deep breath to prepare herself.

"No, nothing's wrong, why do you ask?" Her words were like sugar, but only tasted sour as they left her mouth. She almost felt ill. It had been quite some time since she had last worn her mask of false cheer, and she had forgotten how much it chafed. It had rubbed her supressed emotions so raw that at one point in her younger life, her personality had split and she actually heard a voice in her head. It had been years since her 'Inner' last spoke, and she sincerely hoped that She wouldn't resurface today because of her actions.

"That's a creepy smile, yeah. I bet you could scare people with it." He sounded more amused than unnerved, though he was a little of both. She was going to have to try harder.

"Actually, you're right." _Don't give in to his taunts; respond in a way that he isn't expecting..._ "I can, and have." She was droning on in that sickly sweet tone, eating her dango--with overly emphasized delicacy--while trying to think of what to do next. "But only when it's deserved..."

She finally saw a flash of anger in his eyes, and she suddenly remembered just who she was dealing with and wondered if maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all, but any further doubts were wiped from her mind when he replied in a haughty tone.

"And what have I done, hm? Offended your better sensibilities?" He leaned towards her. "Am I disrupting your perfect little lunch_, princess_?"

What had he done_? What had he done_!?!? Only belonged to the the organization whose primary focus was to suck the soul out of her friend, tried to bomb Suna, essentially killed their Kage, had tried to kill _her _and her teammates, and commited who knew what other horrible crimes. And now this homicidal maniac was acting like he had done _nothing_ wrong! Acting like _she _was bothering _him_! Like _he_ was someone that actually _deserved_ any kind of special treatment, unless of course special treatment included public execution. How could he even...? Oh.

She was a 'civilian' today. She wouldn't know who he was or what he had done. Luckily, her mental slip-up had only lasted a second or two, so she regained her composure and set her cup down before her straining hands accidentally cracked it.

So, apparently, he must think she's some prissy little stuck-up snob who wanted nothing to do with low-lifes like him. And while parts of that were true--she really didn't want anything to do with him--she wasn't such a prude that she'd dismiss someone for their bad manners. After all, she ate with Naruto all the time, didn't she?

Still, even if he was a criminal, she absolutely couldn't stand it when people thought of her as shallow or hypocritical or _annoying_... but she couldn't really break his false perception of her, not without revealing who she was.

"You know nothing about me." It was the best she could do. Deidara looked slightly surprised by her answer, and a hard look came into his eyes before he replied:

"Likewise." And with that single word, Deidara had unwittingly set into motion the beginning of a plan in Sakura's mind, though Sakura herself didn't know it yet. Right now she could only ponder the truth of his statement.

He was right. She knew next to nothing about him, or the organization he worked for. Her sense of duty provided her with only one possible course of action for her to follow from this point:

She had to get as much information out of this man as possible.

Akatsuki was quite possibly _the _single biggest threat to her home village and the shinobi world at large. It was certainly the biggest threat to her best friend, Naruto. And as of right now she was in almost unheard-of position: she could actually _talk _to the criminal; not exchange banter during battle, but just _talk _to him. A casual conversation, though not as effective as intense torture and interrogation, could actually be an extremely good way to pull information from someone like him. He seemed very arrogant, and if she prodded the conversation in the right direction...he might start bragging about himself. And because she was only a 'civilian' at the moment, he was not going to be as guarded about what he told her, and she was hoping that because of that he would be more likely to accidentally slip and give away valuable information: information that could mean the difference between life and death for countless people. She only now noticed that she was beginning to smile. She schooled her expression before it gave anything away.

"True," she said in response to his earlier statement. It had been too long since she had last spoken, and she didn't want to test his patience. She was going to have to play this _very _carefully if she wanted anything to come of this, other than her slipping up and getting herself killed. Easy or not, there was still a great deal of risk if she failed, so she proceeded with caution. "But it doesn't have to stay that way."

He looked like he didn't comprehend what she was saying at first, but after a few seconds the _strangest _expression crossed his features and Sakura didn't know what to make of it. Feeling slightly on-edge, she pressed forward.

"I apologize for being so rude before. My name is Uroshi Hana." She was immensely greatful that she had practiced introducing herself under her guise name until it sounded natural. "And you...?" She already knew his name, but she was curious as to whether he would give her his real name or not; testing the waters, so to speak, to see how readily he gave up information about himself. He hesitated for a moment before replying, face still contorted in that unreadable expression.

"I'm Deidara." Well, he wasn't lying to her so far. That was a good sign. "And i'll accept your apology. But just so you know..." she was a little surprised by his easy acceptance of her apology, but that could only make things that much better for her if he was on 'friendly' terms with her during the course of their conversation. But before she could think much more on the subject, he once again had her mentally spluttering at his next words.

Studiously avoiding her gaze and scratching his face in a move that was probably meant to look unassuming, the Akatsuki continued: "You're not really my type."

_'Not his-WHAT? _WHAT _THE _HELL_?!? WHERE DID _THAT_ COME FROM?! HOW COULD HE EVEN... I MEAN... _WHAT_? THAT'S JUST...EW! NO... HOW DOES HE EVEN.....? HUUUU....._' Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sakura thought she felt several nerve-synapses dying. Determined not to let loss of brain function stop her though, she responded as soon as she was able.

"I'm sorry if i've given you the wrong impression, but that was not what I was suggesting. I simply meant that there was no reason why we couldn't just have a civil conversation instead of annoying the hell out of each other." Because she knew what he had been doing now. He hadn't really been hitting on her, he had just said that to anger her. And it did. Bastard.

She could barely think straight when she was angry, and he was very good at riling her up: a fact he seemed to realize and had been capitalizing upon the entire time, which did not bode well for her at all. She was _really _going to have to take one of those anger management courses Sai kept suggesting she take, or else she might end up dead one of these days. She also made a mental note to specifically request that she be given no more stealth missions after this assignment. But her plans did her little good right now, so she was just going to have to grin and bear it--literally. She put on a smile and tried to restart the conversation on some relatively safe ground.

"So, what brings you to River country?" He hadn't said or done anything in response to her little rant, but he answered her question easily enough.

"Just passing through."

"Where are you going?" Even if he was farily unspecific, she could still give a report on his likely whereabouts when she got back to Konoha, and then they could send out a team large enough to hunt him down.

"Fire country." She felt her lungs constrict. He hadn't said Konoha, but she had a sinking feeling that he was headed to her hometown. What if he was going after Naruto?

"Really? So am I. I live there." He would be less likely to lie if he knew she was familiar with the area. "What are you going to do when you get there?"

He narrowed his eyes at her and Sakura feared that he had somehow found her out, worrying that maybe she had been a bit too forward in her line of questioning. But before those fears could come to frutition, he responded.

"I have some business to take care of there." Akatsuki business was not likely to be anything pleasant. Even if he wasn't coming after Naruto specifically, he was bad news for Fire country. Although she was far from grateful at the moment, she knew she was extremely lucky to have been able to get this information. Now, at least, she could give Konoha a chance to prepare itself against him. She was about to ask him another question, but he interrupted her with a seemingly random statement: "I'm an artist."

For a moment, she was utterly confused. What on earth was he talking about? An artist...? Suddenly an overheard conversation came to mind: She, having smashed through the entrance of the cave, rushed in to find the two Akatsuki who had inflitrated Suna sitting on the cave floor, engaged in a heated discussion about the nature of art. She hadn't really paid much attention at the time--seeing Gaara's dead body was more than a little distracting--but _did _remember that later, during the course of her battle with Sasori, he had declared his puppets to be great works of art. Deidara, then, must consider his clay sculptures to be art.

"Really? An artist and a shinobi? That's..." She had actually been thinking of Sai and his ink creations, but couldn't really talk about her knowledge of shinobi/artists. "Different," was the term she decided upon. Certainly, all of the people she had met that fell under that category were quite...unorthodox, to say the least. He looked a little put-off by her choice of words though, so she tried to seem interested.

"What kind of art do you do?" She actually was curious as to whether he was referring to his clay sculptures, or if he worked with any other mediums as well. Somehow, though, she couldn't imagine this man quietly sitting and painting a bowl of fruit or something. But she wouldn't be getting much of an answer. He looked even more annoyed than before at her question--which surprised her since he seemed the type to brag about his 'art'. Instead, he just _sniffed _at her.

"You wouldn't understand." Oh, did that make her angry. She hated_, _hated, _hated_ it when people dismissed her like that. Like she was stupid. Or weak. Or worthless. Or annoying.

"And what makes you think that?" She was not going to sit by and let some damn criminal insult her like that. But instead of responding to the anger in her voice like she thought he would, he just sat there, looking sullen, and occasionally poking at his food. Well, then. It looked like she wouldn't be getting anything else from this line of questioning. Apparently, his art was a touchy subject for him.

"Well, if you don't want to talk about it..." she finally murmured. She needed to come up with a new topic. What would a civilian girl say? Probably... "What do you do as a shinobi? Surely something exciting." Yeah, that sounded about right. People sometimes asked her questions like that.

"I carry out missions," he deadpanned back.

'_Well, duh!' _Sakura was very tempted to say it, but managed to keep her sarcasm in check. Though he probably wouldn't reveal anything major, she was at least hoping to get an idea of Akatsuki's activities outside of capturing jinchuuriki.

"Like what?" At this, he perked up, and his somber mood suddenly took on an air of amusement.

"I kill people. I do robberies and bombings... occasionally take a hostage or two..." He was purposely nonchalant, but Sakura could tell that doing these things really didn't phase him much. But she was paying more attention to his actual words, rather than how he delivered them. Really... it sounded like he did exactly what shinobi in her own village did, aside from the taking hostages part--which she could only assume was referring to capturing jinchuuriki. Aside from that, killing, stealing, and destroying enemy territory were quite common during the course of a mission. And that gave Sakura pause: she had no idea why they were rounding up the Bijou, but if they were carrying out 'normal' missions as well... then who was assigning them those missions? Crime lords or rogue groups of ninja occasionally posted missions, but Akatsuki's services probably didn't come cheap. Realistically, the only ones who could afford to have such a powerful group on their payroll would be... but no. That couldn't be! The other hidden villages wouldn't hire a group of S-class nins to do work for them.

Would they?

Akatsuki was full of missing-nins from just about everywhere--it would be political suicide to interact with a wanted criminal from an enemy--or even an allied--country. It was treason of the highest order, and could be considered--and had, in the past--cause enough to start a war. And if he was headed to Konoha, as she suspected he was...then that meant _someone_, likely another hidden village, had hired Akatsuki to do something in her village. She had to make sure though:

"So is that the kind of 'business' you'll be attending to in Fire, then?" He looked downright serene as he seemingly mulled over her question, a small self-satisfied smirk gracing his lips as he replied.

"That would be telling." _That_, would be a resounding 'yes.' And for her, this situation had just become about ten times more dangerous, as things were wont to do when they become politically sensitive. Because now, it wasn't just that Akatsuki was coming to Konoha, but it was that Akatsuki was most likely being _sent _to Konoha by another hidden village.

And for once, Sakura didn't think: she just acted.

"Would you mind watching my stuff for a minute? I have to use the bathroom." She practically jumped out of her seat and headed off towards the far corner of the restaurant, leaving a very surprised criminal in her wake. She heard him mumble something as she was leaving, but wasn't really paying attention. She had far more pressing matters to consider.

One of them being, _what the _hell _was she _doing? She wasn't sure at what point exactly her plan to 'get as much information from this man as possible' had matured into 'capture this man and return with him to Konoha', but that was exactly what she was about to attempt, huddled in a bathroom stall, measuring out the ingredients for a heavy-duty knock-out drug into a small vial.

She had made the decision in an instant: she would not let this Akatsuki get away. For reasons she couldn't even fully explain to herself, she knew that she was the only one who would be able to stop him from carrying out his mission--that, if she failed to stop him here, there would most certainly be blood on her hands. Though she actually had no idea what his mission was, she doubted its' success would result in anything less than lives lost. And if she just _let _him leave... well, then, what if he attacked before she even made it back to Konoha for reinforcements? What if they couldn't even track him down afterwards? It was sheer coincidence that she had crossed his path today, but despite his rather flashy battle style, he was still a missing-nin: if he didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be. And then there was the possibility that this Deidara was carrying out a mission given by another hidden village: if she let him slip through her fingers, she would also be losing the knowledge of what possibly hostile nation he was working for, and any chance at Konoha taking preemptive actions against said country. And she could. Not. Let. That. Happen.

So, yes: she knew full well that what she was doing was risky--but it was easier for her to deal with than letting him go.

She made a single shadow clone and sent it back out into the restaurant with instructions to make small talk with the blonde criminal and keep him occupied. But holding a henge and maintaining a shadow clone was exhausting--how did Naruto do it?--so she would have to put her 'plan' into action quickly. She waited a minute to follow her clone out of the bathroom and then snuck into the kitchen. Peeking around a corner, she saw that her waiter was in the back storeage room, arguing with somene. Perfect. This was her chance. She grabbed a tray with a teakettle on it and quickly poured in the knockout drug, stuffing the empty vial in her pocket. After henge-ing into their waiter, she headed back out into the crowded dining area, ignoring all the cries for refills and heading straight towards her own table. Her clone noticed her approach and looked up, smiling widely at her. Wow. That actually _was_ a little creepy--though she told herself it was only because she was technically smiling at herself.

But she brushed that aside and focused on what she was doing. So far, Deidara didn't look too suspicious--just kind of bored. She poured herself some tea first--her clone, that is--and then topped off Deidara's cup. And then it was done. She left, praying that she had made the doseage correctly. If she had made it too strong, then he might collapse right here on the table, and that definitely had the potential to become a_ very _awkward situation. Conversely, if she had made it too weak, he might not fall asleep at all, realize someone had tried to drug him, and kill everyone in sight. She really hoped that neither of those things would happen, and that the drug would work as she meant it to: him ingesting the drug gradually as he sipped his tea, and after finishing it, having about five minutes of conciousness. He was practically done with his meal, so he should be leaving soon, leaving him plently of time to walk far enough away from the restaurant so as to not cause suspicion when she tied him up and carried him away.

But as Sakura snuck back into the kitchen and out the back door to wait, other worries surfaced: what if he didn't drink all of his tea? Then it wouldn't even matter if she had made the doseage correctly, because he wouldn't be getting the full dose. And what if her clone forgot and accidentally drank some of the drugged tea? She wasn't sure if the effects of the drug would hit her once her clone was dispelled--she felt, as a medic, that she should know more about this, and was annoyed that she didn't--but now was not the time for testing it out. She was just about to mix up the antidote when she felt her chakra return to her and gained the memories of her clone, breathing a sigh of relief as she ran through them.

Her clone had played the part well, she realized, while mentally running through a conversation with the criminal about types of weather in different areas of the world that she hadn't really had with him, among a bunch of other random topics. But that was what impressed her: her clone had come up with an idea of her own--which in and of itself was a little disconcerting to think about--but the weirdest thing was that it had allayed a concern that she hadn't even had until after she went back into the kitchen. What did that mean? That the clone had free will? Was it still her, existing in two different places at once, or another entirely seperate being that merely possessed identical talents and wit, yet ceased to exist the moment it was dispelled? Or was it some odd combination of the two? Or what if--_gah! Focus, focus...._ She could worry about the ethical and philosophical implications of clones later, because she was in the middle of a mission right now. A self-imposed mission, to be sure, but a mission nonetheless.

Herself or not, it was still very clever what her clone had done. Her clone had been a real chatterbox, asking the Akatsuki all sorts of pointless questions and requesting his opinion on the stupidest things. And so, Deidara, to avoid answering her clone as much as possible, had occupied his mouth with taking tiny sips of his tea until he practically had the thing glued to his lips, and in doing so ingested the drug in the most effective manner possible. When her clone began to notice the first signs of the drug taking effect, she got up, paid--Sakura winced as she realized she had technically just stolen her food, since that money would have also disappeared when her clone did--and walked out of the restaurant, dispersing herself as soon as she was out of sight. When her clone last saw Deidara, he had been just about ready to leave, and that had been over two minutes ago. She slunk around to the side of the restaurant, peeking around the corner just in time to see the blonde come stumbling out onto the path. He looked muddled, glancing left and right down the road, before finally deciding on left, which was east, which was towards Fire. She waited until he was quite a ways down the road before dropping her henge and coming out from behind the building and trailing him. Stoned or not, he was still a ninja with honed senses and killing reflexes, so even after he finally teetered off the road completely and slumped to the ground beneath a tree, she waited a good three minutes before approaching him.

It was bizarre, really. Seeing one of the worlds' most dangerous men lying out in the open, looking so defenseless. Yet he _was_ defenseless right now. She thumbed the hilt of her tanto, deciding again. In a few seconds, she could finish what even a Kage had not been able to...and then her friend would be safer--the _world_ would be safer if this man were no longer a part of it. She had changed her plans for him once: she could do it a second and final time. She could do it so easily right now. Do it and still return to Konoha on right on time. And she would be praised for her actions. Tsunade would be proud of her for getting rid of such a powerful enemy. Naruto would thank her for killing the bastard that had killed his friend. There was absolutely every reason to end him.

So why wasn't she?

It was a shinobi's duty to kill enemies. She was a shinobi. He was an enemy. It was her duty to kill this man. He was dangerous enough that any information he had was possibly not worth as much as having him dead...but then again, it might be. That couldn't be what was staying her hand at the moment, though. Her breath shook as she tried with greater effort to pull the small sword from her back--had it always been this heavy?--but it still wouldn't budge. Dammit! What was wrong with her? Just a few minutes ago in the teahouse she had been hard-pressed _not_ to kill him, and now as she thought about actually sliding her sword across his neck...she felt bile rise to the back of her throat. Why? Why was she reacting like this? This man was _evil_, he was a sadistic murderer who would think nothing of doing the same to her, probably just for fun. At least when _she _killed, she did it because she was trying to protect her country. She never _enjoyed _it.

_Much._

She froze, and her hand slid off the tanto to hang listlessly from her side. Did she actually......yes, she thought as a cold knot formed in her throat. The sound of an enemy's skull cracking from her punch, shattering the ground with her inhuman strength, seeing someone who had threatened _her _and the lives of her _friends _fall and never get up again_..._gave her a sick sense of satisfaction. Was she really... like that? Was she the type of person who could kill in cold blood because duty dictated that she did so? Was she weak if she didn't? If so, did she really want to become someone that could? Someone like _him?_

No. She would not become like him. This....this....

And yet, as she paused, looking at him, searching for words... she wondered if there wasn't another reason she had been unable to finish the job. Because right now, cloak and headband aside, he didn't really look all that evil. Long blonde hair was hardly a menacing attribute, and when his face was relaxed like this it was obvious that he really was quite young... So young, like her... Plus, he just looked so... vulnerable, with his deadly blue eyes hidden away, and his features devoid of all malice and arrogance. She really couldn't bring herself to kill him like this.

Oh, sure, she knew as soon as he was conscious again she'd probably want to rip his head off, but by that point, she wouldn't be able to kill him because he'd be too strong. Ironic, that when she wanted to kill him she couldn't, and when she could kill him she didn't want to. Musing over that fact, though, she was starting to get a little worried as to how she was going to actually get him back to Konoha, now that she had him. She couldn't drug him the whole way... even if she had enough medicine to do so, he could die from being drugged that much. She could bind him with chakra-restraining rope, but that would really increase travel time, and if he managed to get loose--and there was a pretty good chance that he _would_--there would be hell to pay.

She scooped him up and slung him over her shoulder, glancing around twice before running into the woods. She had to stay on the ground though, because the extra weight of carrying someone larger than herself would make jumping form tree to tree as she normally did impossible. She still wasn't sure what her plan was for keeping him from running away, or killing her, or both, but she couldn't just stay out in the open where they might be seen by an enemy ninja after one of their heads. Finally, after fifteen minutes of running, she spotted a cave next to--surprise!--a small river. It was big enough though, that she couldn't see the shadowed back of the cave, and secluded enough that it would suit her purposes of stayinig hidden. She had to duck her head as she entered, but accidentally knocked Deidara's head against the cave ceiling.

"Unghh..." She froze. That wouldn't have waken him up, would it? She not-so-gently laid him on the floor of the cave and peeled back his eyelid. His sight was unfocused, and his eye was lazily rolling around in its' socket. Good, he was still unconcious, then. She slipped a hand quickly to the back of his skull, trying to ignore how soft his hair felt as she fingered his scalp, looking for injury. She found a rather large goose-egg, but he wasn't cut or bleeding and after a quick probe of her medical chakra she learned that he had not suffered a concussion.

Drawing her hand back to herself, she sighed, the adrenaline rush she had been in ever since the criminal had first walked into the teahouse finally ending. A small, humorless chuckle escaped her. She had just succeeded in one of _the_ stupidest and most reckless undertakings in all her life. And after all that, Sakura, relaxing in a dark cave next to someone she normally wouldn't be able to get within a hundred feet of without being blown up, had only one, anticlimactic thought:

_Now what?_


	3. Chapter 3

**II **

**Poison Control**

_And here I thought _the hand-_mouths were the weirdest thing I'd find..._

Sakura, after about an hour of doing nothing but staring at a cave wall, had decided to make good use of her time and search the Akatsuki while he was still unconscious. Initially, it was just so she could remove any weapons on him before she tied him up, but there had been a few... more _interesting _discoveries along the way.

The first thing she did was remove his cloak and set it aside. Underneath it, he wore... a belly shirt? Geez, what was it with these artisté-types and their love of showing midriff? Sai always wore that half-shirt--that was also missing half a sleeve for some reason--and Sasori had worn nothing but pants under his cloak... though, that was a bit more reasonable, what with the giant metal wing-blades he'd had coming out of his back... plus, he didn't even technically _have_ a midriff since that space was occupied by an enormous poisoned metal cable. At least Deidara was wearing mesh underneath his shirt... but still. Most skilled shinobi had a quirk or two_--*cough*cough* _GAI _*cough*cough*--_ but this one bugged her for some reason. Of course, that could be due to the fact that two of the people that displayed this particualr quirk had tried to kill her at some point, and _she_ sometimes felt the urge to kill the other whenever he uttered something socially tactless in her presence, which was often.

Forcefully cutting her mental ramblings short, she continued her search. The rest of his clothing was fairly normal: blue pants and shinobi sandals, white spats on his ankles and a sash around his waist, below which was a greenish belt with two zippered pouches. However, very _un_normal were the hideous sections of discolored leathery flesh on his upper left arm and right forearm. She nearly groaned at the shoddy, crude workmanship with which his arms had been reattached. It was like the thick, ugly stitches holding his body together were mocking her profession.

Without even really thinking about it, she began to heal the flesh where his severed left arm met with the rest of his body. What she saw with her medical chakra made her cringe. Though the flesh of his arm had fused together enough to allow blood-flow and nerve connection, she wouldn't call it _healed. _His skin had formed a thin film over the gaps between the two sections of flesh, but as the nasty black scabs that had grown over the inflamed tissue surrounding the thick stitches which penetrated his skin melted away from her healing chakra, the putrid smell of pus and rotting flesh assaulted her nostrils as pockets of hot air between his arm and shoulder were allowed to escape.

She gagged and used her free hand to cover her face. Gods, how had he gone this long without medical attention? _Real _medical attention? It was a miracle he was even alive right now... it had been, what? _Six _months since he'd had his arms torn off? Yet somehow he had managed to make it this long in this state... though from the smell, his arm was definitely playing host to several bacterial infections. Belatedly, she realized that maybe she shouldn't be healing him right now--an action that weakened her and strengthened him simultaneously--but she couldn't have him dying from staph when she needed him to be able to spill secrets about Akatsuki to the boys back in Konoha T&I, could she? It wasn't _that _big of a deal for her anyway, since after she ripped out the stitches, burned off the pus, dead flesh and bacteria from the cavity in his arm, it became a simple flesh wound. Well, relatively simple. It still took about three minutes to finish up his left arm. Taking a quick look at his right arm--which was considerably worse--she decided to work on it later, when her chakra reserves were at a safer level. But it was when she was prodding at the dried-out, almost _dead_--which, she realized, it probably _had_ been at some point--section of flesh connectinghis wrist and upper arm that she saw his hands.

_Nailpolish? How did I not notice that before at the Teahouse?_

There was also a strange ring on his left index finger. She didn't know what it was for, but she'd confiscate it just to be safe. She grabbed his hand--

--and immediately shrieked and dropped it.

Because something _wet _and _warm _and _squishy _had just slid through her fingers and it had been on his hand and though she was almost afraid of the answer, she _really _wanted to know just what the _hell _it was so she picked up his hand by his thumb and gingerly turned it palm up and _dear Kami, _was that a _tongue_!?!

She couldn't resist the urge this time. She flew out of the cave and dropped to her knees on the riverbank, thrusting her hands deep into the icy water and scrubbing furiously.

A minute or two later, because she was now satisfied that her hands were saliva free--and because she couldn't feel them anymore--she removed them from the rushing water and dried them off on her shirt, trudging back over to the cave as she did so.

She paused briefly at the entrance of the cave and took a deep breath, placing a hand against the ragged earth for support. Okay, so maybe she had overreacted just a teensy bit... after all, it would leave her open for attack if she became distracted like that, were he awake when he did it... though, _had _he been awake when he did it, her probable first reaction would have been to deck him, not run screaming in terror. Next time it happened... _if _it happened, she was not going to react, she told herself.

That didn't stop her from stuffing his hand-mouths with cotton balls and taping them shut when she resumed her place at his side, though.

After... _securing_ his hand-mouths, she checked the two zippered pouches at his sides, which, strangely, contained nothing. She removed them anyway and set them aside. They might come in handy for storing food, since she would probably have to forage for food until she got to Konoha. After all, it wasn't like she could go waltzing in to the nearest town for fresh supplies with a captured criminal in tow.

Luckily, her medical chakra allowed her to scan his body thoroughly for any hidden weapons without removing any more of his clothing. Other than a kunai strapped to each ankle, he was unarmed. This, however, was how she stumbled upon her third medical improbability of the day.

As she was passing her glowing green hand over his chest, she detected a strange anomaly on his left pectoral. Focusing in with her medical detection jutsu, she saw that it was--!!

_ANOTHER one?!? _

Well, damn.

She had flinched away when she had realized that yes, somehow, impossibly, this man had a mouth in his chest to match the pair on his palms, but she slowly lowered her hand back to his chest to examine his bizzare anatomical mutation more closely. She moved with caution, making sure to only touch him with her chakra, as if she touched his skin she might get bitten.

Which, for all she knew, she _might._

His chest-mouth was slightly larger than the mouth on his face, and quite a bit larger than the two on his palms. It was also, mercifully, sewn shut. Because, not only was it large, but, unlike his other three mouths, _this_ one was lined with bestial, razor sharp teeth. And, when she sent a little bit more of her chakra in to get a clearer image, it had responded to the intrusion:

It had _growled _at her.

Deciding that the safety of her hand was more vital than having her curiosity satisfied, she withdrew her hand to her lap. She also vowed to herself that she would never, ever, _ever _think of this again.

She figured that she had done a thorough enough examination of the blonde criminal and that it was high time she secured him somehow, before he woke up. Unfortunately, she didn't have any rope with her, but she _did_ have a spool and a half of metal ninja wire. Normally, it was used to set up hard-to-detect traps, since it was so thin that it was nearly impossible to see unless the light reflected off of it. But, because it was so thin, it was also razor sharp and had a tendency to cut into whatever it was wrapped around.

She had enough of it though, that if she wrapped _all _of it around his wrists and ankles, it shouldn't cut into his skin.

And, if not... well, he'd just have to live with it.

She tied his ankles tightly together, looping the wire around nearly 20 times before expertly tying it off. She almost started to tie the man's wrists behind his back, but noting the still-terrible condition of his right arm, decided against it and tied them in front instead. Luckily, the wire was strong enough that it couldn't be bitten through.

Maneuvering his unconcious body to the far side of the cave and laying him out in a semi-comfortable position, she placed a small detection jutsu on him that would alert her when he moved from his spot.

Sighing, she leaned against the cave wall opposite of the restrained Akatsuki member. She was quite tired from all of the chakra she had spent that day, and knew that she wouldn't be getting a good night's rest until the criminal was out of her possesion, but she couldn't sleep just yet. She was secure for now, but she wouldn't be once the criminal woke up, even if he was restrained.

No, she couldn't sleep.

She needed to plan...

~o0o~

Deidara was not a morning person. He wasn't sure why his body and mind refused to work at full capacity until the sun was at _least _a third of the way across the sky, but it was just one of those facts a person has to accept about themselves without really knowing the reason, like loving how cucumbers smell but hating their taste, or always having to finish a flight of stairs on your right foot, or even for some ungodly reason enjoying the banjo. Fortunately, none of these last three examples applied to Deidara.

Unfortunately, the first one _did, _so the fact that the sun was barely even up when Deidara cracked his eyes open immediately put him in a sour mood.

That he was also bound, gagged and drugged did nothing to improve his current temperment.

Yet practically a lifetime's worth of shinobi training was enough to somewhat overcome his current incapacitation as survival instincts kicked in. Once his eyes had adjusted enough to the glaring morning sun, he blearily took note of his surroundings.

Except for the area the sunlight was coming from, he appeared to be completely surrounded by earth. A cave, maybe? He could also hear the faintest sounds of rushing water, so it was likely he was still somewhere in River Country, which was where he last remembered being.

Speaking of memories...

Obviously, someone had _somehow _managed to do this to him, and though he couldn't _quite _yet remember any details about how his humiliating capture had come about, or who had done it, he did know one important thing about his captors:

They were _so _dead.

"Did you enjoy your nap?" His head snapped around quickly to find the source of the low feminine voice, which resulted in his vision nearly blacking out as the drugs reminded him of their prescence in his system. He set his eyes in an automatic glare and directed it toward the dull grey lump in his field of vision that he assumed was the captor assigned to watch him. When his vision finally cleared enough for him to make out the details of his captor, he blinked in shock, only to have his glare return tenfold a second later.

The hell? A measly little Leaf-nin? With _pink _hair?

No way. There was just _no freakin' way_ that Deidara, hardened criminal and S-class missing-nin gets his ass handed to him by some pansy chuunin and her compatriots from _Konoha_, of all places. If she thought that her little group would be enough to keep him down...

She tilted her head slightly to the side as she observed him, perhaps expecting a response, or maybe for him to start snarling like a wild animal--he wasn't sure. He thought he should feel angry, but hell if he could remember when his thoughts and feelings were balanced enough to act in sync. No, instead, he felt a shiver of anticipation.

Deidara _ever_ so loved the shocked look he inspired on peoples' faces when they realized that _oh, shit, I'm really gonna--_

He generally never gave them enough time to think past that point.

But definitely, for that one second in time where a human face displayed an emotion that it never had before and never would again, for that one moment of _art_, Deidara killed with relative mercy--that is to say, he blew his target into little chunks, _sublimated _them, rather than dragging their deaths out with something slow and inglorious like bleeding out or _poison_.

"I had wanted to ask you some questions before we get moving, so I didn't gag your face-mouth. But if you're not going to talk anyway..." She twisted a length of fabric in her hands with a dark look in her eye.

"Bitch." It came out slurred, nearly indiscernible, but judging by the way her face twitched in a sign of barely concealed annoyance, she managed to comprehend him. A second later, she shrugged and smirked.

"When I need to be. Just do what I tell you to and your life will be... well, as pleasant as possible considering the circumstances." He snorted, then swallowed, feeling his voice finally returning to him.

"Nice try, pinky. You practice your intimidation tactics on Academy Students? 'Cause I definitely haven't felt a killing intent that weak since I was at mine." Truthfully, she _did _have a rather impressive ki, given her rank and homeland, and an actual Academy Student under its pressure would probably wet themselves. But he had been surrounded by so many godly-powerful auras for so long that no amount could really faze him anymore, not even that of an angry bijou. Still, he wasn't going to tell _her_ that: that would defeat the purpose.

Her eyes narrowed and she casually palmed a kunai.

"How about a haircut?"

Deidara blanched.

---

Sakura couldn't help but feel a small amount of satisfaction at the horrified look on her prisoners' face, right before her previous nervous panic returned with a vengance when his face suddenly ran through several shades of deepening red and the full force of his killing intent chilled the room.

"_Listen_, you little Leaf whore," he spat, "I don't know what kind of game you think you're playing here, but don't think for a _minute_ that it's a game you can win. You may think you're in control of the situation, you may think you have control of me, but a pathetic excuse for a ninja like you could never keep someone like me down for long. You'll slip. You'll lose the upper hand for just one second, but in that one second you'll be _dead._ Got it?"

Really, he was absolutely right.

He was a hardened, ruthless killer, who would undoubtedly take advantage of any leash she gave him and use it to strangle her.

She was just a girl--though strong, intelligent, and skilled--who was in over her head.

Really, she should have been terrified.

Funny how fear had a tendency to flee screaming from her when she got angry.

"You think this is a _game _to me?! You think i'm hauling your Akatsuki-ass back to Konoha for _kicks_?!" She slammed the kunai in her hand into the hard rocky earth beneath her, punctuating her statement with a rather large crater. "Now _you _listen to _me, _you sick little bastard: I don't doubt that _you_ get off on messing with other people's lives, and that killing and torturing people might very well be just a game to _you_, but I am NOT playing around here. Do I look stupid to you? Don't you think I _know _just how dangerous you are? That I could never hope to beat you alone? And yet i'm doing this anyway. What does that tell you?" She gulped down as much air as she could to recover from her rant and glared at him, willing him to respond.

"Tch, hell if I know... you suicidal or something?" He parried her glare with one of his own, though it didn't completely cover the genuine confusion in his expression. Nor his few furtive glances towards the hole she had just made in the floor.

_I don't know, am I? I _do_ have a tendency to place myself in hurtful situations..._

_'I love you with all of my heart! Please... stay... or take me with you!'_

_'You really are... annoying...'_

She gave herself a mental shake.

"NO, I am NOT suicidal..."

_...though i'm starting to think i'm masochistic..._

"Even though I know you could very well-" she swallowed, "-kill me, but isn't there a chance of death on every mission you take?"

"Yeah, maybe for you," he smirked as she scowled, "but I think you'll find that the chances of you dying on this one are gonna be a lot higher than those 'D' ranks you leaf-nin softies use to coddle your genin."

"For your information," she snapped, "those low rank missions help build teamwork in an environment where one mistake _won't _kill you, _and _provides relatively cheap labor for the upkeep and service of the village." Sakura was supremely irked at his insinuation that she could somehow manage to die on a D-rank mission, not to mention her patriotic pride had been riled up when he mocked Konoha's more humane approach to breaking in new soldiers. "I'd say that turns out more good ninja than tossing green genin out into the thick of things and keeping whoever didn't become cannon-fodder," she remarked derisively, making an oblique reference to what she knew of Iwa's 'training' methods.

Deidara just rolled his eyes, and somehow that simple disrespectful gesture made her want to snap his neck.

"Missing-nin, remember?" He jerked his thumbs up towards the slashed-out symbol of Iwa on his forehead. "There's a reason I left the damn place, so insulting it isn't going to make me angry." He smirked. "Though, for someone _not _messing with me, you seem pretty intent on getting me worked up." He tsked and gave a mock-disapproving frown. "_Very _unprofessional, yeah."

_But you started it! _sounded way too childish even to her own ears, so she took a moment to fume while she thought of a more intelligent comeback.

"There's nothing wrong with defending myself when you insult me, which you do _every single time you open your mouth, _so..." Sakura trailed off, watching as he calmly surveyed the cave, surrounded by an air of subtle calculation. But what he was pointedly _not _doing was what really pissed her off--that is, listening to her yell at him.

_That bastard's _ignoring _me! Why I oughta..._

Sakura was rapidly compiling a mental list of very violent things that she 'ought to' do to him that he would _not _be able to ignore when he suddenly spoke up.

"Where are the others?" Sakura blinked, and her passionate anger abruptly deflated at his out-of-the-blue question.

"...what?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes, as if having to explain something very obvious to a child.

"Your mission was to capture me, yeah?" he sneered at this, as if such a thing could never be done, even though she just _had_, "and so i'm asking where the others that captured me are, so I can get a good long look at their faces before I kill them." That manic light returned to his eyes as he stared at her, waiting for an answer.

Sakura blinked. And blinked. And kept on blinking until her brain finally rebooted and started processing Deidara's words.

So... he assumed he was taken by a whole team of ninja, not just her. Which meant that he hadn't even considered the possibility that she had captured him alone--or if he had, had dismissed it out of hand. Or, he could be digging for information. But being the cocky bastard that he was, it was most likely just him being unable to think he could lose in any way to someone 'weaker' than him.

He also seemed to think that she was officially sent to capture him... which made his assumption that she was with a team a little less insulting, now that she thought about it. There was no way Tsunade would send her, or _any _chuunin alone for a mission like this. That really _would _be suicidal. She had just gotten lucky--she would not have been so fortunate in his capture had she been required to actually track him down and subdue him, rather than having him pretty much dropped in her lap.

Which left her with a choice: even if she lied and let him believe there were others out there waiting to pounce if he made a break for it, it would be pretty obvious after awhile that she was alone. Even though it would offer her a little bit of extra protection for even a short time, if he uncovered her deceit on his own he would start treating everything she threatened as a bluff, which would not be good since some of the things she was planning on holding over his head _were_. She would have to be completely truthful with him in anything that wasn't one of her pre-planned lies. She sighed.

_Well, here goes nothing..._

"First of all, _Deidara, _I was not given a mission to capture you." He immediately tensed into what could be considered a fighting position, which wasn't all that threatening given the way he had to roll on his side to do it.

"Nor was I given a mission to kill you..."

_Though it DID cross my mind on more than one occasion..._

He visibly relaxed at this. No matter how cocky he may be, he had to have realized that she would most likely be the victor if she were to make an attempt on his life while he was bound.

So she was utterly confused when he started cackling.

"So... so, you really _were _hitting on me back in the restaurant, then? That _was _you, right?" He asked, amused.

Sakura was _not._

"W-WHAT?! HELL no! I was NOT-"

"So that wasn't you, then?"

"NO, it WAS me, but-"

"If you're trying to seduce me, you're doing a terrible job, you know," he drawled, tilting his head to the side as if critiquing her.

"WHAT is _WRONG_ with you?!" She was _really _starting to wish that she had just gone ahead and killed him...

"Quite a few things, actually, but a bondage fetish isn't one of them. So, if you'd go ahead and untie me..."

"GAAAAAAAAAAH!" Her inarticulate scream of rage was especially loud within the confines of the tiny cave, but she didn't really care at the moment.

"_I. AM. NOT. TRYING. TO. SEDUCE YOU. Get it through your thick skull already! _I have _absolutely _no idea how you came to the conclusion that I was trying to _sleep _with you, but I would strongly suggest that you _abandon_ the notion now, because that has never, is not, and never _will _be my intention for you, you... you...!" Her mind could not produce a single descriptor vile enough to properly represent him.

He looked a little startled at her outburst, but recovered almost immediately, letting out a heavy breath.

"Alright then... you'd said you weren't sent to capture or kill me, and apparently it wasn't to seduce me either... so what are you doing?" He said with some heat.

"I'm taking you to Konoha."

"You _just said _that you weren't capturing-"

"No, I never said I wasn't capturing you," she replied calmly, having regained her composure.

"But you just said-" Inwardly, she was pleased. It was about time _he _was the one doing the spluttering.

"No, I said I wasn't _sent _to capture you."

"Then why-"

"I'm not on a mission right now." His emotions seemed to drop off his face as he turned inward in response to her declaration. She took a deep breath.

"Well, technically, I _was_, but it was one that had nothing to do with you. I had no idea you'd be at that teahouse, but I was presented with a chance and I took it. _I_ decided that I had a good enough chance of capturing you and actually pulling it off. _I _decided. Which brings me to the second thing I was going to correct you on..."

---

"...I was on a solo mission. I captured you by myself." He could only stare at her in disbelief.

This...

This was...

_Impossible? _

He stared blankly at her face. It was dead serious.

_Apparently not._

It was just so...

...unexpected.

A part of Deidara was rather furious that he had managed to screw up _this badly_, but another part of him was strangely satisfied that his theory of the universe was vindicated by his current predicament. After all, what were the chances that he would just _happen _to run into an enemy nin already in henge, who just _happened _to recognize him as Akatsuki, and who just _happened _to be ballsy enough to try and take him captive--alone--and then, that her plan would succeed? Partially, at least. (He had no intention of allowing himself to _actually _get dragged back to Konoha, but trying to pretend she hadn't accomplished the 'capturing him' part would be more than a little petulant.)

Now, Deidara did not believe in fate--(miles away in Konoha, Hyuuga Neji let out a sudden violent sneeze during his spar, awarding Rock Lee his first ever victory against his 'Eternal Rival™')--but he could not see any way that he could have avoided this outcome, other than smacking every single person he ran into to dispel possible henges. But that seemed like it would be a tremendous waste of his energies, energies better put to use in making art and flying by the seat of his pants...

...the latter of which he suspected he would be doing a lot of in the next few days, if he were to free himself.

Because at the moment, he was in just a _little _bit of a tricky situation. While he had no doubt that, were they both at full strength, he could defeat his captor without breaking a sweat, he was _not _at full strength. And though she didn't exactly look like she was fresh and raring to go, she also wasn't tied up and drugged.

But, despite seeing (somewhat) how he had come to be in this position, he still had no idea _why_.

So, naturally, he tried to get her angry again. Just to speed up the answer-getting process, of course.

"So, in short," he started, making sure to inject as much disdain into his voice as possible, "you actually _do_ have a death wish," he paused, listening to the beginnings of her spluttered outrage with glee, "or I just got unlucky enough to run into someone crazier than me." Really, who takes hostages on a whim? Okay, so maybe he had done it one or four times, but _he _was insane. She didn't have an excuse.

"I _don't_ plan on dying, Deidara," she hissed.

"Well, then you picked a rather unfortunate career, now, didn't you?" His sarcastic expression quickly morphed into one of distaste and he made a disapproving sound in the back of his throat before continuing. "Unless, of course, you intend on going the route of that snake-bastard, or Saso-" He abruptly choked on his own words and his eyes opened comically wide.

So, she wasn't just some random Konoha chuunin after all. How he hadn't realized it before was a mystery to him. After all, how many people had he ever met with _pink _hair? (As he was now aware, just one.)

"You-!" He did a fair impression of a fish as his mouth opened and closed in an attempt to spit out words.

"...me," she agreed, a very wary look settled across her features.

"You were there that time--you were the one--who killed..." She stiffened and her eyes went blank, before giving a small nod of confirmation.

Suddenly, Deidara didn't feel quite as confident as he had a few minutes ago. Because as much as he wanted to believe that Sasori's defeat had finally proven the superiority of Deidaras' art over his, and he did indeed believe that it showcased the futility of trying to create anything eternal, he knew that just because his way of art was ultimately the better one did not necessarily mean that Deidara _himself_ had been better than Sasori. In fact, quite the opposite was true. The few times they had seriously fought each other Deidara had never once been the victor.

And now he was in the hands of someone who had defeated one of the few people he had never been able to.

"How?" He asked tonelessly.

"I-" An almost embarrassed expression came over her but it quickly melted into sadness. "I had help," she murmured, staring at the kunai still in her hands.

Was she actually _upset _that she'd had to kill him?

_Leaf-nins..._

"What's wrong with _you_? Do you _regret_ killing him?" he asked acerbically.

"Of course not," she bit back, anger shining in her eyes--and he thought, rather detachedly, that the expression played on their color _quite_ nicely--"he wanted to add me to his freaky puppet collection." She seemed to shudder a little, and he couldn't really blame her. "Not to mention he stabbed and poisoned me." Deidara was sure he must have misheard the last two words of her explanation because he had obvious evidence that suggested otherwise.

Namely, she was sitting right before him, very much alive.

That was probably one of the main reasons he always lost to Sasori in the past: because _every single frickin' weapon_ he used was coated in very, very deadly poison, and the only way to _not_ lose to him was to dodge every single one of his strikes, which was damn near impossible.

"That's impossible, yeah. Sasori's poisons don't have antidotes." Well, technically they did, but they couldn't be accessed by anyone by him.

"I made one," she said, trying to sound blase, but failing to hide the undercurrent of pride in her voice--which, since he knew that even Sasori himself had trouble making them, had every right to be there.

"Hmm...maybe you're not so wimpy after all, pinky." Just because he knew to be a little more wary of her now didn't mean he was going to let up on aggravating her anytime soon. Hell, that was probably the only even remotely entertaining thing he'd have to occupy himself with for the next few days.

"Thanks for the compliment. I'm flattered," she deadpanned, shifting her left knee up to her chest to support the hand she was using to prop up her chin.

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't let it get to your head, hmm? I'm still going to kill you," he said lightly. He was sure that the effect of his threats was somewhat dampened by the fact that he was lying rather prone on the hard dirt floor of the cave, but he had still expected to get some sort of negative response.

Instead, she gave one of her creepy fake grins--which, apparently were very strenuous to maintain, as she always seemed to take a very deep breath beforehand.

"Oh, are you now? Hmm... well, we'll see who wins soon enough I suppose... should be any minute now..." she mumbled--probably more to herself than him, leaning her head down to presumably look out of the cave at the position of the sun to determine the time.

However, Deidara was far more interested in this mysterious event that was about to take place than the time.

"_What _should be any minute now?" He growled. Maybe she had sent for backup while he was unconscious?

"Mmm? Oh, don't worry. You'll know it when you see--er, _feel _it, more accurately. Trust me." If knowing that this girl had defeated one of his..._betters_--the word was difficult to say, even in his mind--hadn't made him nervous, her 180 degree turnaround in attitude--from nervous, flustered and volatile to cool and downright _superior--_certainly did.

Also..._ feel_? He was just about to demand that she clarify when he got his answer...in a decidedly unpleasant way.

"What do you m-mmm...ggrrk..." It felt like someone had injected ice water directly into his hara. He struggled to keep a stoic expression as the uncomfortable sensation spread from behind his navel to the rest of his chakra network, but the ice water seemed to be turning into caustic acid as it traveled, which made keeping his poker face considerably more difficult than it should have been.

He struggled desperately to stay conscious when his vision began to darken, but he could tell it was a losing battle. It was almost as if... yes, his chakra was draining from his body at a tremendous rate... some still functioning section of his mind told him that it would only be two minutes before he completely bled out and died...

No, he didn't want to go this way... he...

He saw the blurry outline of...someone...ah, his captor--_damn her, DAMN her--_lean over him, and then...

He gasped and his muscles spasmed as an entirely different kind of heat spiked in his right arm and rapidly spread, burning away the icy acid and clearing his head and vision. He was extremely drained and exhausted, but he could feel his chakra slowly begin to replenish itself naturally.

His eyes focused in on her just in time to see her replacing the cap on a small, stainless steel syringe. She caught his stare and returned it, smirking, and holding the needle up triumphantly.

"_This_, Deidara, is why I don't plan on dying any time soon. Do you know what this is?" Smarmy bitch.

"_Obviously _not. What the hell did you do to me?" He half-wheezed, half-panted. He did _not _like where this was going. If she was skilled enough to make Sasori-level antidotes...

"While you were... out," she said, the tone of her voice indicating that she was gearing herself up for some kind of highly technical medical explanation, "I gave you an extremely potent dose of a relatively new drug called CS-64, which causes the body to produce an enzyme that inhibits the production of chakra from all 64 tenketsu." She paused to let him digest this piece of information.

He may not know anything about enzymes, but the basic 'you will stop producing chakra' part, he understood perfectly.

"Won't that, oh, I don't know, _kill _me?" He wasn't exactly afraid of dying--obviously--but he'd rather not die like _that_.

"Well, yes, eventually, of course...if left untreated. So, the drug I just gave you...?" She trailed off, maybe trying to drag out her gloating or something. Whatever. He didn't feel like dealing with this right now.

"Just get on with it. Tell me," he demanded.

"Fine," she huffed. She leaned back against the cave wall and brought her knees up to her chest, resting her arms on them and staring at the metal tube in her hands.

"Now that the CS-64 is in your system, your body will continue to produce the chakra-inhibiting enzyme indefinitely, or until its effects are reversed. This," and here she glanced over at him and held the syringe up in one hand, "is Epenidase. It doesn't reverse the effects of the drug. It only destroys the enzymes which prevent you from producing chakra. The dose I just gave you will be enough to keep the enzymes at bay for around 12 hours. After that... well, you'll notice when in kicks back in. And when the drug is in full effect, it's really more like a poison than anything else. Of course, it depends on how much chakra you have when it starts to take effect, and whether or not you use any chakra on jutsu, but about 6-12 hours after your last dose of Epenidase...you will die."

He had a sinking feeling that it was going to be much, much harder to get away than he had originally planned. He let out a long, exasperated breath and let his head down on the floor.

"I'm betting that Epenidase stuff isn't easy to come by," he sighed.

"Mmhmm. I had to isolate it myself. And I'm only going to be carrying a few doses of it at a time, so don't get any funny ideas about killing me and running off with it to find someone to cure you..."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Damn. Well, there goes plan A.

"...not that you'd be able to actually _find _anyone before you bit it, of course, but I thought it would be wiser to dissuade you _before _you tried to kill me," she remarked dryly.

"So you used some super-drug on me that _nobody else _knows the cure for?" There was something a little fishy about that...

"No, two other people know how to reverse it," she shrugged.

"And they would be...?"

"The Godaime Hokage and her other apprentice. Like I said, you won't find anyone who can fix this."

_Other _apprentice? So this chick had trained under one of the _Densetsu no Sannin?_

He was really starting to hate today.

He closed his eyes in defeat.

"So unless I stick with you... i'm dead," he mumbled into the floor. Maybe it was time for him to create his final masterpiece...

"Basically." He opened his eyes and glared at her.

"And what's to prevent me from taking _you_ hostage and forcing you to make me the antidote?" He was grasping at straws at this point, but he was desperate--no, _determined_, to find a flaw in her plan.

She looked a little nervous for a moment, but then her face turned serious.

"And you would _really _trust me enough to take whatever drug I made you under duress?" Point.

"I could _still _kill you, yeah."

"...and you would still be dead..." she said slowly, confused, "but it's going to be hard to kill me without weapons, clay, or chakra." He felt his heart drop into his stomach.

"Without chakra? What are you talking about? I thought you said that Epe-whatever, stopped the drug for 6-12 hours?" More than enough time for him to find some clay and go out with a bang...

"Yes... somewhat. You'll be able to produce enough chakra to stay alive... but not much else. Definitely not enough to do any jutsu."

...and now plan B was dead.

And so was he.

---

Deidara was quiet for the next few minutes after she had informed him of the process she would be using to control him--the first evidence it was working. Anything that could keep his smart-ass mouth shut was a force to be reckoned with in her books.

That wasn't to say he wasn't being _expressive _about his obvious frustration and fury--he was just being quiet about it.

She watched him from the corner of her eye as his expression vacillated from defeated resignation to outright murderous and everything in between, the external symptom of whatever internal debate he was surely having... with himself?

She could relate to that.

She was almost tempted to speak up again--at the very least to interrupt whatever escape scheme he might be cooking up--but decided that she valued the (surely) temporary silence more.

Plus, she needed a little time to think without interruption as well.

Doing what she had just done had been... nerve wracking, to say the least. It's not every day she had to verbally outmaneuver an S-class criminal into _not _killing her. From what she could tell, though, she had succeeded for the most part on that front. She had been worried when he finally recognized her as the one who had aided in Sasori's defeat. She thought that maybe he would be angry at her for killing his partner, but instead it just seemed to make him take her more seriously (though the insults kept on coming.)

After that, she had tried to subtly reveal even more of her skills and notoriety, and it seemed to have had a similar effect. Now, he held an almost grudging respect for her. It was quite a high, to be taken seriously by someone like him. Just more proof that she was no longer a weak little girl.

She still wasn't entirely sure that he wouldn't try and escape anyway--he seemed to almost _not care _if he died or not, which was worrying, since he might just kill her anyway, out of spite.

But for the time being, it looked as if he was going to cooperate--somewhat, at least. But it _should _be enough for her to maneuver him back to Konoha without dragging him all the way there--which she had considered at one point, but decided the risks of her running into bounty hunters while not able to properly defend herself because of her burden, were too high.

She had eventually come up with the plan she had now--and in her opinion it was a rather good one, considering her very limited supplies. She only hoped that she hadn't forgotten any likely (or unlikely) scenarios when devising ways to prevent him from escaping/killing her...

At the very least, in the worst case scenario, they would _both _end up dead, not just her.

She'd rather avoid the dying part, though.

"Why?" She jumped a little when he spoke, after having been silent for nearly ten minutes. At first she had thought he had read her mind and was asking why she'd rather not die, but quickly came to her senses and responded appropriately:

"...huh?"

"You never told me... _why _did you capture me?" He was more solemn and serious than she'd ever seen him.

"Well..." To be honest, she didn't really know how to explain her reasons, or if someone like him would even be able to understand them.

But she figured she might as well try anyway.

"...to put it simply: you are Akatsuki, and my best friend... is the Kyuubi jinchuuriki." Other than a very slight widening of his eyes, he showed no response to this. "So I have to protect him in any way I can... and if it's by capturing a member and pumping him for information that could potentially save his and many other lives... or by taking a member out," here she directed a very pointed glare at him to let him know in no uncertain terms that _killing him _was still plan B, "then I have no choice but to do it." Stating her conviction to protect Naruto and everyone else out loud made her feel a little more comfortable with her decision in the teahouse.

He just stared at her for the longest time, eyes unflinchingly searching her face for something--thought what he was looking for she could not tell--and she tried not to buckle under his intense scrutiny.

Finally, he just sniffed and looked away.

"Tch. How noble." He turned onto his other side to face the cave wall.

Geez. What a grouch.

Though, he did have a pretty valid reason for being upset, she supposed. If she were in his position, she'd definitely feel like busting some balls.

She really needed to stop empathizing with him.

She winced internally when she remembered one of the things she had empathized with him about.

"Deidara..." He seemed to hunch into himself a little more, over in his brooding corner, but finally responded sharply.

"What?" Okay, she could have a _little _patience with him for the time being, seeing as how bad of a mood he was in...

"Turn around."

"No." Screw patience. She wasn't in the mood either.

"Fine then," she huffed, "I _won't _heal your other arm."

At this, he immediately turned back to her, incredulity and confusion in his eyes.

"My _other _arm? What are you talking about?"

Her eye twitched.

"You didn't notice...?" So much for appreciation... "...I healed your left arm."

His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when he managed to (awkwardly) move himself into a half-supine position to look down at his left arm.

"...the stitches...are gone..." His previous surliness had completely melted away under his mild awe.

"How could you have _not _noticed? You couldn't tell that your arm was, you know, suddenly devoid of bacteria and pain?" He shot her a withering look.

"I was kind of preoccupied at the time... you know, waking up and having no idea where the hell you are only to discover you've been captured and poisoned?"

Okay... so he had a point. But still.

"Well, if you're done mouthing off, do you want me to fix the other one?"

"...why?" She had expected him to say something like, 'no, i'd rather let it rot', or something equally sarcastic, not his wary hesitance.

"It's full of bacteria. Can't have you dying on me just yet." Sympathy and her pride as a medical professional had nothing to do with it. Nope. Not at all.

"How considerate," he replied blandly. As she scooted closer to him, he scooted farther away until his back was up against the wall and he was sitting up straight. Now, even though she was kneeling, he looked down on her slightly.

Unfortunately, she would have to cut his arm-bindings in order to perform the healing, or risk completely cutting off blood flow to his hand. She pulled a kunai from her pouch, to which he immediately flinched away from, but she caught his gaze and spoke firmly, grabbing onto his bound hands with her free one.

"...I need to cut your arms loose. Can I trust to to not try anything while I heal you?" He raised an eyebrow at the word 'trust', and mumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like 'as far as you can throw me, yeah.' She smirked.

"Really? Because that's probably a lot farther than you think it'd be." He scowled at her. "Not to mention, this is going to be a very delicate procedure, so if you move around or anything, I might just slip and accidentally _remove _something..." she informed him cheerily, glancing down at a certain point on his lap that very clearly indicated which _something _was being threatened.

He looked slightly ill, but still managed to scowl and grudgingly promise not to do anything.

After carefully removing his bindings--she wanted to salvage as much of her wire as she could--she gingerly pulled his arm toward her body to inspect it. She tried not to be bothered by the unavoidable skin to skin contact when his arm came to rest just above her knees, but still felt a small shiver of discomfort where it happened.

She grimaced a little at the condition of his right arm. Not only was it stitched together, but there was a segment of flesh between his forearm and his bicep that did not look like it belonged to him. It would be difficult, but she thought that after she burned away his infections and removed the stitches, she would be able to use the semi-living components in the segment of arm that wasn't his and essentially regrow that same segment of arm into one that was composed of his own cells. It was sort of like a skin graft, only much more complicated.

They didn't speak while she worked over him: she certainly couldn't afford the distraction of conversation, and only had enough presence of mind to notice him staring intently at the green glow of her hands against his arm, and to hear him grunt slightly whenever she came to a particularly painful step of the procedure.

It took her nearly 45 minutes and over half of her chakra reserves to do it, but when she was finished his arm looked as if it had never been injured. He stared at it with an unfathomable expression for a long time. Finally, he looked back up at her.

"Never thought anyone'd ever be able to fix it, yeah." She supposed it was the closest she'd ever get to a sincere 'thank you' from him.

"Yeah, well, it wasn't exactly easy, and now i'm tired, so we won't be headed out for awhile now." His expression darkened when she mentioned heading out, and she could only presume he had no desire to get any closer to Konoha any time soon.

She leaned back against her side of the cave wall and wiped the sweat off her forehead, sighing as she slipped into a very light meditation.

They entered into another semi-comfortable silence, which was only interrupted by the sounds of their breathing and an odd ripping sound that Sakura realized with a brief opening of her eyes was just Deidara picking apart the tape-and-cottonball muzzle she had applied to his hand-mouths.

Eventually, Sakura's stomach growled and she remembered that she hadn't eaten since the teahouse incident, and that had been nearly 15 hours ago. She shifted forward and grabbed her pack, catching Deidara's attention as she did so.

"Hey, are you hungry?" Before he could answer she grabbed a ration bar and tossed it towards him. He made a slight face at the disgusting rectangle of nutritional cardboard paste, but otherwise ate it without complaint, after using the mouths on his hands to unwrap it, disturbingly enough.

She too managed to choke down a bar, and also took a soldier pill just for good measure, since her chakra was still kind of low. After gulping down the last bit of water in her canteen, she noticed Deidara staring at it.

"Thirsty?" He only glared at her. She rolled her eyes. "That would be a yes, then? Fine, i'll get you some water. But you had better be here when I get back... not that you'd get too far hopping," she reminded him, glancing down at his still-bound feet.

"Speaking of which, are you ever going to bother to cut this damn wire? I'm not going to run..." she could almost here the _for now _in his head.

"You don't need to walk anywhere yet, so, no."

"I need to piss."

"Well, then hop over to a nearby tree: just don't go anywhere I can't see you." He raised an eyebrow.

"You're going to watch?" She only felt the tiniest of flushes appear on her cheeks.

"No, I just meant don't wander too far away. And stop getting stupid ideas. Pervert..." she muttered as she walked out of the cave, her canteen and all the rest of her possessions in tow. She might indeed be able to throw him pretty far, but she really didn't think she could use that as an accurate indicator of how much she could trust him.

Apparently, the stream was much farther away from the cave than whichever tree he had chosen to fertillize, so by the time she got back to the cave he was already there, only now he was wearing his cloak again.

"Don't give me any diseases," she warned him as she tossed him the canteen.

"Wouldn't you be able to cure them?" He asked mischievously after taking a swig of water.

"Probably," she admitted as she settled back on her side of the cave, "but i'd rather not have to make the effort in the first place." She _was _going to thoroughly clean out her canteen before using it, though.

"Ah, so you're just lazy then."

"You know, I can _remove _that arm much easier than reattaching it," she remarked darkly. He rolled his eyes and waved his hand at her.

"Pssh, idle threats. If keeping me alive for information is your primary goal, then you're not going to do anything that might kill me if you can help it."

"I could always switch to plan B," she said as she narrowed her eyes and clenched her fists, making the leather squeak in protest.

"Hn," was all he said before he took another long drink of water. It was another minute before he spoke again, now rubbing the edge of his Akatsuki cloak between his fingers. "So..." he began. "Why'd you take my cloak off earlier? It was for plan C, right?" What?

"What?" He was wearing that fake-nonchalant expression again, the one he had used in the teahouse when he was trying to annoy her.

"Well, your plan A is to interrogate me, plan B is to kill me, and if plan C is to seduce me it would make sense if you started by stripping me down in my sleep..." She just hung her head. She didn't even feel like trying anymore.

"...you're an ass, you know that, right?" She eventually said. He smirked.

"When I need to be."

~o0o~

.::AN OMAKE (sort of)::.

After removing his cloak, Sakura set it on her lap and began to check in its' pockets. She had assumed it would contain nothing more than hidden weapons...

But you know what they say about people who assume.

The first item she removed was a very beaten-up leather wallet. She pried apart the lips of the pocket meant for money... and a little white moth floated out. Other than that, that section was empty. Huh.

_Looks like crime really _doesn't_ pay._ (ZING!)

While pondering why it was that moths always seemed to take up residence in money-less wallets, she searched the remaining pockets of his wallet for anything of use. While nothing_ useful _turned up, she didn't find nothing.

_Who the hell is Guy Fawkes?_

Whoever he was, said man apparently owned an emporium that Deidara liked to shop at, if she were to judge from the number of holes in his store punch-card. It looked like he was only two shopping trips away from getting a free...something or other.

Not that he would be shopping there anymore, now that she had gotten ahold of him.

He also apparently liked movies, since she found about a dozen used ticket-stubs stuffed in various places in his wallet. She tried to make out the titles of some of the movies, but since the tickets were ripped in half, it was difficult.

_-er Tomorrow, -puden 3: Bonds, -x: Reloaded, -he Carribean, -egend, -k Knight, -redator, -e Hard, -e Hard, -e Hard... wait...._

Whatever that last movie was, he'd seen it at least five times and kept the stubs.

_...weird..._

Next was an Ame library card... which was apparently borrowed, since the man before her in no way, shape or form resembled one Hoshigaki Kisame.

Shrugging, she stuffed the card back into his wallet and pulled the next item out. It was...

Disturbing. That was really the only term it was worthy of.

It was a picture of, presumably, another Akatsuki member who wore an orange swirly mask with only one eyehole. This in and of itself was not particularly odd: outwardly, at least, he was far less freaky in appearance than any other members she had come across. (read: 4 MOUTHS...4!!!)

No, the thing about the picture that was just _wrong _was that said cyclopian masked man was leaning forward almost suggestively and blowing a _kiss _towards the camera, and in combination with the little red marker-drawn hearts framing it...

Well, that would at least explain Deidara's hair and nailpolish.

Before she came to a firm decision on the criminal's sexual orientation, though, she flipped the picture over and read the short note, which was written in the same color red that the hearts were:

_Sempai,_

_Here's a surprise Tobi left you just in case you got sad on your mission without Tobi. Tobi hopes you like it!_

_- Tobi_

_P.S. Be a good boy._

_P.P.S. Don't blow yourself up. Tobi would be sad._

Sakura, now thouroughly creeped out, was tempted to burn the thing right then and there, but decided the picture might come in handy later for blackmail purposes.

Other than a fortune cookie fortune_--your life will take an unexpected turn_--there was nothing else in the wallet.

Digging around in another pocket of the cloak, she pulled out a hairbrush. Plucking out one of the long, golden hairs that were stuck in its bristles, she snorted. No wonder his hair was nicer than hers. Even _she _didn't carry around a brush on missions... anymore.

At the very bottom of the same pocket, she felt a bunch of small cylindrical tubes. There were four of them--chapstick, each with a letter marked on the lid. One had the letter 'C', two had the letter 'H', and the last one had an 'F'. Well, that was odd. Why would he need four...oh.

Ew.

Shuddering, she put them back in their place and dug through the rest of his stuff. Most of it was fairly practical--bandages, soldier pills, extra hair ties, a water bottle, toothbrush(es) and toothpaste, a ragged washcloth--but there was also a large sketchpad and several nice pencils.

Curious, she set everything else down and turned her attention to the pad. Maybe he really was some kind of artist?

She opened it and saw...

Nothing. It was blank.

She sweatdropped.

_'Well, it's not like I have anything else to do right now...'_

~o0o~

At an indeterminate and unimportant moment not too far in the future from their time in the cave, Deidara managed to reclaim his sketchpad. Having been deprived of_ any _form of artistic expression for so, so long, he needed to sketch something (and burn it when it was done of course) before he exploded--and _not _in the way he wanted to, either.

Flipping it open, it took his mind exactly four seconds to process the poorly-drawn representation of a certain swirly-faced nightmare blowing kisses at him from the page. The caption completed the horror.

_'TOBI LOVES YOU!!!_'

A moment of silence. And then Deidara screamed.

Sakura, who was well aware of her prisoner's repossession of his belongings, heard the outburst from her position in the treetops. She smirked evilly.

_Just wait 'till he sees the REAL picture..._

.::END::.

~o0o~

**A/N **- Alright! That wraps up chapter two! I'm trying to get these puppies out within a reasonable amount of time, but you know... school... meh. Feel free to ask questions in a review or PM, and I will do my best to answer them.

Also, which voice do you like 'hearing' the story in more: Sakura's or Deidara's? I realize i've probably written more from Sakura's perspective than Deidara's, but I actually find it easier and more fun to write from his. (Maybe Sakura just seems like she would talk more...? And does that mean I find it easier to write from a whackjob's POV? What does that say about _my _mental state...? O_O' )

Remember, reviews encourage me to write more! If I don't get any reviews, i'll think that nobody likes what they're reading, and nothing puts more of a funk into my drive to actually do something than feeling like what I'm doing is pointless.

(P.S. I'll give a cookie to whoever guesses what movies I was referencing in the omake)


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